


Boundaries

by butterflyishida



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyishida/pseuds/butterflyishida
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel reeeeeeeally needs to learn the meaning of personal space before Dean tears him a new one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boundaries

I own nothing. Not Supernatural, not Dean, not Castiel, not anything. They belong to their rightful creators whom I worship like gods. That is all.  
~*~

Castiel had a horrible habit of showing up unannounced, one that Dean regularly gave him hell for. It wasn’t that the angel was trying to embarrass his charge, he just wasn’t concerned about the state of dress one may or may not be in. Clothing was just a covering that an embarrassed Adam and Eve had come up with. Dean cared though. He cared a whole lot and was very quick to point out when he did not appreciate being dropped in on. Personal boundaries were things that were not to be poked and prodded at. Or so the elder Winchester thought.

It was an interesting day the day that Castiel learnt just how upset Dean would get when his personal space was invaded when he was least prepared for it. It started out like most others; aggressive, loud and definitely on the supernatural side of things. After a day digging up graves then filling them in over drifting ash and smoking bones, Dean was ready for a shower. It was a dirty business he was involved in after all. Face to the spray, he washed away the last bit of the day’s grime. This motel had great water pressure and apparently unlimited hot water to go with it, making it very easy to get lost in one’s own thoughts, pie in Dean’s case. Endless pie, and what would it be like if bacon cheese burgers came in pie form. These thoughts and volume of the water crashing around his head is likely why then, that the hunter did not notice he had company. Those catlike reflexes and a near 6th sense were clearly of no use in the privacy of one’s own shower and could be turned off for a little while. He should have left them on though. It would have saved him a very undignified gasp when he took a step back and bumped into damn fabric.

“Hello Dean.” Castiel greeted solemnly, trench coat hanging heavily on his rakish frame, weighed down by the spray of water and his white dress shirt become more than a little translucent. Dark eyebrows furrowed in confusing as Dean cursed at him and spun to grab the shower curtain, covering himself with it.

“Cas! I’m in the damn shower!” he snapped, trying to glare but looking more like he was going to erupt like a volcano in reaction to the way Castiel was studying his frame. The head tilt, the curious flutter of eyelashes, the silence for those unnecessary seconds while he was clearly studying every inch of exposed skin!!!

“I can see that. So am I.” the angel replied eventually in that infuriatingly reserved way of his. He looked down at himself and curled up his nose distastefully at the way his shirt was sticking to him. With a slight turn of his wrist, the water in the shower trickled down to near nothing and within a blink his clothing was dry. He didn’t show Dean the same courtesy however.

“You don’t join another man in the shower! You don’t join ANYONE in the shower without an invite! It ain’t right!” Dean kept on yelling, probably disturbing everyone else in the thin walled motel. Outside in the sitting around of the motel room, Sam was fiddling with his computer and occasionally glancing towards the bathroom door. Ever since his brother had gotten himself an angel his life had become so much louder.

“You are simply washing your God given frame, not touching it inappropriately. My father would be pleased you take such care. He must have known you would, he rewarded you with quite the endowment.” Dean was crimson, then purple then suddenly white as a ghost as Castiel went on. He whipped himself around to face the wall, curses on his tongue but Castiel interrupted with a noise of interest.

“Oh. That’s right. Your dimples are on the opposite set of cheeks from your brother. We found that so interesting when putting you back together.”

“GET! OUT!” Dean roared and Castiel listened, disappearing with a flutter of wings and an understanding of how humans felt when hearing his true voice. Castiel didn’t think he’d ever understand the concept of a human’s continual need for privacy. He understood that some occasions warranted it (like that time he had appeared when Dean had been enjoying the company of a young brunette he’d met at the local dive bar) but when one was alone, what was the need? Not to mention that he had been among those who had pieced Dean Winchester back together as he had stated. Dean Winchester, the angel’s personal complex human sized puzzle. (They’d put the nipples on the wrong sides but shhhh, no one had noticed as yet. Everything else had gone right thought.). He’d seen it all before so why was Dean behaving as if this was the worst atrocity known to man?  
He didn’t go far, reappearing next to the television that Sam had on. The younger Winchester raised an eyebrow in question and Castiel shook his head.

“Do not interrupt your brother during his ritual cleansing. He does not find it appropriate.” he explained and Sam snorted a laugh.

“Figured that out when I was about 7.” he replied, heading turning as the bathroom door creaked open and Dean came out with a towel around his waist and a tshirt sticking damply to his chest. His plans for a relaxing shower had clearly not worked out, the poor thing.

“Alright, I know you know where you’re landing so here’s the rules. Not when I’m using the bathroom. Not when I’m having sex. And definitely not when I’m in the shower.” he emphasized with his fingers, not able to tick them off though since he was hanging tight to his towel. He didn’t want to hear any more ‘endowment’ comments.

“I will keep those in mind.” Castiel agreed with a nod. “However Dean…your dimples. May I touch them? I wasn’t the one working on that end….”

“No! For god’s sakes, what the hell?” Dean cut him off, ready to tirade when Sam lent over towards Castiel, eyes on his brother while he spoke a wicked smirk. It only grew wider as he began to whisper.

“Don’t worry Cas. He’s only mad that you saw him naked before he got to see you in the same state.”

Forget disturbing the rest of the hotel. Dean’s screech, and it was a screech if a very manly one, set off car alarms two blocks over.  
Now if it was because of Sam’s little slip of a secret or because Castiel had decided that was fair and dropped his trousers then and there…. well that’s a whole new story. Let it be known that they were never, ever welcomed back to that particular hotel again. Pictures up in the lobby and everything.


End file.
